


Let's Make Purple

by teenbeachstan



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on iCarly, Due to personal reasons there will be gay, First Kiss, GIBBAYYY, Idiots in Love, Short One Shot, Zukka Nation, imust have locker 239
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenbeachstan/pseuds/teenbeachstan
Summary: this is definetly not my best (v rushed) work but hey! i hope u guys like it anyway :')
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Let's Make Purple

**Author's Note:**

> this is definetly not my best (v rushed) work but hey! i hope u guys like it anyway :')

Sokka paces outside of the community center, making a constant dramatic-sigh-sound as he does it. Why would Katara turn down art lessons from her big brother and leave him for _actual lessons from an art teacher?!_

Okay, maybe he's being dramatic. Nontheless, he's still wounded.

After a good ten minutes of pacing, Sokka makes a decision: He's gonna march right into those fancy-shmancy art lessons and show that so-called art teacher who's boss.

He strides into the building, automatically getting weird looks from the staff. Sokka makes a bee-line for the room Katara's in, and once he reaches it, he barges in, stumbling a bit as he enters.

"Can I help you?" A voice said wryly.

Sokka looks to the source- a man, standing in the front of Katara's eisel, with arms crossed. He had dark hair that reaches his shoulders that slightly covers the left side of his face and sharp, almost golden eyes. Sokka can't help but think that he kinda looks like a model.

"Yes," He shuts the door, making his way to stand behind his sister. "I was just wondering if I could _sit in_ and observe your," he makes quotation marks in the air. " _Art class_ tonight."

Sokka watches as Katara's mouth drops open, along with the other people in the room looking a little confused at his sudden interruption.

The beautiful-art-teacher-man tilts his head. "Uh.. sure." He gestures to an open seat. "Take a seat wherever you like."

"Wonderful!" Sokka clasps his hands together, taking the open seat next to Katara. Her glare sends daggers his way, but he ignores her and simply smiles.

"What are you _doing here_ , Sokka." She whisper-yells.

"I just wanted to see what good art teacher is like, dear sister." Sokka says innocently, batting his eyelashes.

" _Please leave!_ " Katara whisper-yells again.

" _I don't wanna leave!_ " He says, mimicking her tone.

Their voices overlap as they whisper-argue, but the combination of it is starting to cause even more of an disturbance than Sokka had caused in the first place.

"Excuse me." They continue to argue. "Excuse _me_." 

The raised voice quiets them.

This "art teacher" gestures to Sokka. "Katara, do you know this person?"

"No, I do not!"

Sokka opens his mouth to object, but Katara falls through quickly. " _Yes_ , this is my brother Sokka."

"Sup," he says, winking.

Art Teacher Guy walks closer to where Sokka is seated. "Sokka, my name is Zuko. If you're going to sit in on my class, _please_ be quiet."

Sokka brings his voice to a stage whisper. " _Sure.._ " He says, drawing out the last part of the word. Katara rolls her eyes.

Zuko walks back to the front of the room. "Now, I'd like you all to begin by picking a color and painting four straight lines,"

" _Four straight lines,_ Sokka mocks to Katara.

Man, what kind of art teacher is this? He's so _boring_. No matter how pretty he is.

An old woman in a colorful blouse raises her hand. Zuko nods in her direction. "Yes, Miriam?"

"Should we connect the lines?"

"Woah, slow down," He says, gesturing his hands in stopping motion. "That's next week."

Sokka groans obnoxiously, slumping over his knees. 

"Is there a problem?" 

"Oh, no, of course not! I'm just _so_ excited to see everyone paint _four straight lines_." He says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Katara huffs next to him, her glare intensifying. "Go art!" Sokka says, pumping his fist into the air.

" _Can you be quiet?_ " His sister says next to him, but he ignores her.

"Do you have some problem with the way I'm running my class?"

"Well, since you asked," Sokka throws his arms in the air. "how does painting straight lines help someone learn how to do art?"

Zuko glares, putting his hands on his hips. "It teaches _patience_ and _control_ , two things that you clearly don't have."

Sokka stands up from his seat and mirrors his pose. "Ohhh," 

Zuko's eyebrows furrow deeply, obviously annoyed by him. Instead of retorting, though, he turns away.

Katara raises her voice. "Okay! We were gonna paint lines, let's do that!"

The old lady in the colorful blouse, Miriam, looks over at them with her lips pressed together.

Sokka continues, stepping in Zuko's direction. "Why don't you teach these people about, oh I don't know, being creative and spontaneous and passionate?"

Katara walks up closely behind him. "Who wants to go to the park and paint the dogs!" 

Zuko gets up right in his face. "You want to see creative, passionate painting?" Before Sokka can even register what he's doing, Zuko is smearing a paintbrush covered in blue paint across his nose and mouth.

Sokka laughs dryly, picking up a tub of red paint. "I'll show you how a _real_ artist does it." 

"Don't you da-" But Zuko is silenced by red paint being smeared with Sokka's hand across his cheeks, mouth, and chin.

He can hear Katara huff angrily again. "This is just gonna get worse before it gets better."

But he isn't focusing on Katara- right now, he's smearing red paint all over Zuko's face, when the other man goes for his hair. A glob of paint finds its way onto the top of his head.

"Oh, it's _on_ pretty boy!"

Katara opens the door to their apartment, yelling for him to walk faster. Sokka is now covered head-to-toe in many different colors of paint, and he worries that its not going to even come out of his favorite pair of jeans.

"I can't believe you did that, Sokka!" She throws her purse onto the couch, its contents spilling out. "I'm never gonna be allowed in that community center ever again!"

Sokka rolls his eyes, making a _pffftt_ sound. "You're overreacting,"

" _No_ , the head of security said 'you're never allowed back into the community center ever again'!"

"People forget!"

Katara gets closer to him. "They _took our pictures and our thumb prints!_ " She holds up an ink stained thumb as proof.

"Yeah, they're never gonna let us back into that place."

"Why, Sokka? Why would you embarass me?"

"I don't know," He casts his eyes to the floor. "Because I'm a big jerk." Sokka feels something itching inside his nose, and starts rubbing it visciously. "And I think I got paint in my nose."

Katara pushes him. "You deserve paint up your nose." She's still mad, but at least now there's humor in her voice.

"Look, if I swear not to get all psycho, will you let me teach you how to draw?"

Katara bites her lip, trying to hide her smile. "I'll think about it."

Sokka opens his arms wide. "Hug?"

"How about you take a shower first?"

Oh yeah. He's still covered in paint.

Before he can make it up the stairs to take said-shower, theres a knock at the door. Katara opens it first, and by her reaction, it is _not_ who she expected. Her mouth falls open, and she looks to Sokka on the stairs.

" _Zuko?_ " 

Sokka's eyebrows shoot up, and he rapidly begins making an X motion in the air.

"May I come in?" Zuko's voice asks, and Katara looks to Sokka again. He's rapidly making as many NO signals as he can, shaking his head vigorously.

"Sure,"

Zuko shyly enters their apartment, eyes flying to Sokka's still-paint-covered face.

he starts to apologize. "Look, I'm really sor-"

"No," Zuko shrugs. "You were right. To be a real artist, you need to be spontaneous and.. _passionate._ They don't teach you that in art school." Sokka stares at him dumbly. "Maybe you could teach me?"

Suddenly, Sokka's face feels like its on fire. He gulps, swallows the nervousness, and lays on the charm. "Well, I have been told I'm an _excellent_ teacher," He lets his voice drop an octave, leaning closer to Zuko's face.

"By who?!" Katara exclaims, and he almost jumps. He had forgotten she was there.

And he would continue to forget.

"I'm sorry I painted your mouth red."

"I'm sorry I painted your mouth blue."

Sokka smirks, and he's so close that he can feel Zuko's hot breath warm his face. "Wanna make purple?"

" _Please._ "

Sokka leans in first, capturing Zuko's lips in his own, cradling his face in his hand. The other man gasps in surprise, the quickly reciprocates, his hand traveling up to bury itself in Sokka's hair. Sokka uses his free hand to grasp at his waist, pulling Zuko flushed against him. He licks at his bottom lip, asking for enterance to Zuko's _very warm_ mouth, and Zuko literally _groans_ , which ignites something deep and hot in Sokka's belly. Zuko tastes like jasmine and dark chocolate, and also kind of like paint, but _Spirits_ it's the best kiss he's ever experienced in his entire existence, and he can't get enough.

"Uh, okay, I don't understand art at all." Katara says, sheilding her eyes as she makes her way up the stairs. But Sokka ignores her, because kissing Zuko just became his new favorite activity.

Besides making art, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> GIBBAYYY


End file.
